


Destruction Unthinkable

by nostalgic_breton_girl



Category: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: F/F, Red Mountain, Tribunal Temple, Vivec City, baar dau - Freeform, red year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25429729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgic_breton_girl/pseuds/nostalgic_breton_girl
Summary: In which Lunette, formerly Nerevarine, hears of the destruction of Vvardenfell during the Red Year, and returns to Morrowind to survey the damage.
Relationships: Female Nerevarine/Ilmeni Dren
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Destruction Unthinkable

**Author's Note:**

> from two anon prompts on tumblr: 'destruction' and 'temple'

I have often said that I don’t get sentimental about places; I have often disproved it, I think; and the notion is beginning to haunt me, as if desperate to prove me wrong, over and over and over. – In short, my life is a succession of destructions, none more piquant than when I returned to Kvatch, too late; but I had settled in Cyrodiil, and found new life even amidst the ruins, when I heard the news from Morrowind, and hastened there...

The Red Year will surely never be forgotten. You do not need me to tell you that, for it is in your consciousness, and that of the collective. That much I guarantee. It was the scourge of Morrowind even more than I was: and I missed it, for being in Cyrodiil. I cared, of course I cared, it was a nation crumbling, and more importantly than anything, it was death, death unthinkable: but it struck me more personally than I might have imagined.

I had lived in Morrowind, to be sure: but did Morrowind live in me? Did I care that much for somewhere I had never thought to call home?

To the masses, I disguised the turbulence in my mind. This was not a difficult task, for I was in the company of Ilmeni Dren, and nobody would question her panicked return to Vvardenfell. As for Ilmeni herself, she had divined my true sentiment, of course she had, she always does...

We had received news of the catastrophe, not by courier, or through conversation, but by Vedam Dren himself, who, having miraculously survived, thought first and foremost of his daughter, and hurried to the Imperial City where she and I resided. There were days of shock, days of simply sitting and trying to comprehend – gods, I have never been so bewildered before anything, and I was the Nerevarine! – and we took in the Duke, and he awaited news of his countrymen, or sought them out, and at great length we decided we had better travel to Morrowind and see for ourselves what it was that had happened.

I shall remember vividly that first glimpse of Vvardenfell...

It was twelve years, since first I had sailed to Seyda Neen, from the mainland, bundled upon a boat as a prisoner; since I had been brought into the open air a short way from the shore, and seen the green spread of the land, the dainty Cyrodiilic village there. I had not found it pretty, for no such thoughts even ventured to cross my mind. But time had passed, and south-west Vvardenfell had imprinted itself upon me, and when I had left for Cyrodiil, it was with something akin to fondness that I had looked back, and watched the island disappear over the horizon.

The sky was a deepening red, over Morrowind; at sea, it was as if night had fallen already; and as we continued, I saw that I should not hope for even the faintest glimmer of familiarity. I did not remember Red Mountain being visible from the sea: yet I was sure I saw it, amid the smoke and the ash, a dark shadow towering over the island. And we knew already that setting foot upon Vvardenfell was a fool’s errand, that we would inspect it from a distance, and then go back to where we came from, to the harbour of the mainland.

One of the sailors reached over the side, in morbid curiosity; retreated his hand, proclaimed that the very seawater was hot –

I had grown increasingly fond of Vvardenfell, in the years I had lived there, and now – as with Kvatch – I should never see it again, how it was, or perhaps at all.

And beside me, in thunderstruck realisation, Ilmeni let out the most awful shriek and collapsed sobbing into her father’s arms.

A long moment – a moment, when I surveyed the devastation, and time stood still, oh! it stood waiting for me to comprehend, and I should not comprehend if I looked for an eternity – a long moment, and I looked upon her trembling form, and the Duke’s broken composure, and I too crawled into his arms and wept.

* * *

The cities had perished, and so many of its people had perished with them, that back on the mainland I could not ask after anyone, I durst not. If they should yet be alive, then we would know later. It was too much to hope that they might be: and difficult enough, in truth, to navigate the smouldering ruins of the island, without navigating those of the people and the nation.

The Duke was well-received in those circles who knew him; Ilmeni and I were allowed some measure of privacy, for it was a good while before either of us was recognised. I thought I should be lucky, in that respect: and then we reached Mournhold, and I was not.

I was known there still, and knew that I should be, and did not wish to go. The Duke promised that I would be able to keep some measure of incongruity, and that I did not have to venture beyond the apartments he had for us. That did not prevent the very servant who attended the building from recognising me, and shrieking, and saying that I was to blame for everything: the Blight (the cheek!), the death of Almalexia, that of Sotha Sil, the fall of the Temple, the fall of Baar Dau, the eruption of Red Mountain –

‘It was you,’ she said breathlessly, when I thought she had finished, ‘who destroyed our Temple and our livelihood, you, you are a scourge on Morrowind!’

I had already near convinced myself of that fact, and did not much like being reminded of it.

‘I shall tell people you are here, I shall –’

What she had meant to threaten next, I shall never know, for Ilmeni had heard the commotion, and come up, and now said imperiously:

‘You shall do no such thing, _sera_ , and my father will make sure of it.’

The woman apparently had forgotten with whom I shared company, in Mournhold: at this reminder, she trembled, grovelled a bit (to Ilmeni; for me she yet reserved only a scathing glance), and went as quickly as she had come.

‘Lunette, are you all right?’

I did not so much embrace her, as fall into her arms, and she led me to sit down.

‘Do you know her? _Did_ you know her?’

‘I... I think I did,’ I considered: ‘I think she was a temple-attendant, under Almalexia.’

‘Gods, no wonder she –’ Ilmeni caught herself, took my hand. ‘Ignore her, and, if anyone else should say the same, ignore them. None of this is your fault.’

‘But it is, it is, it _is_ ,’ I cried, in tumbling words which I could no longer hold back.

‘Lunette,’ she said.

‘You keep saying that none of it was my fault; certainly the Blight was not my work, but the death of Almalexia was, and the mortality of Vivec; you said that didn’t matter, and I almost believed it, but now I come to Morrowind, and I have taken their faith, I have destroyed their Tribunal, it does not matter if they were true or false, they were a cornerstone –’

‘Lunette, ssh, ssh –’

‘It was I who defeated Dagoth Ur, and with that brought about the eruption of the mountain –’

‘I am sure that is untrue: I am sure Red Mountain has erupted before –’

‘And it was Vivec’s mortality which brought Baar Dau down, I have heard people say so, and that was –’

‘That was _not_ your fault,’ said Ilmeni, firmly. ‘These things are beyond your control. Perhaps you were involved in the grand scheme which wove the web: but were we not all? and you have said yourself, that you did not make the choices in fulfilling your destiny.’

She might have spoken the evening away, and not convinced me, so deep was I in despair, at the absolute destruction of a realm I had once known. I was astounded that she had so many words for me, amid her own tempest of sentiments. – And it is this latter fact which comforted me, if nothing else, and despite my guilt I had not the energy for speaking, and so lay in her arms until we fell asleep together –


End file.
